Absorbing the Spectrum
by Allison
Summary: Detention is over and all of the characters are carrying on with their lives.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Absorbing the Spectrum

**Author: **Allison

**Summary: **Hopefully this isn't the same post detention fic that I'm sure is up here four times over, but it is after detention and all of the characters are carrying on with their lives.

**Notes: **I don't even remember why I clicked on the Breakfast Club link on the other day, but I did and to my pleasant surprise, there was some really good stuff there. Unfortunately, I managed to run through it all in a few days, so while waiting for the next chapters of everyone else's stories, I was bit by a few bunnies of my own. Andy and Allison are my favorite characters, but I'm not about to ignore the rest of the club members, even if they aren't all included in this first chapter.

**More notes: **I'd really like to have a beta-reader for this, so if anyone is interested, email me at badmotorscoteratgmaildotcom Thanks!

**Word Count: **1256 (this was supposed to be a drabble, mind you)

* * *

Andy shifted uncomfortably, in more way that one, as words kept spilling out of Allison's mouth. 

"…I don't think that from a legal standpoint what he did can be construed as rape since I paid him."

He was even more uncomfortable with how relieved he felt when she said it was all a lie. She was a freakazoid with some major problems, and he could actually feel her making him as crazy as she was. So he thought of other things, the proper positioning for a full nelson, how many pounds he was going to bench press tomorrow, anything. Anything but the way her lips formed the word 'nymphomaniac', and the way one side of her mouth quirked up into that smile that let them know they'd all been had, she was just teasing them.

Bender's words came back to him, "She's only a tease if what she does gets you hot."

The crazy girl was a tease. And he liked it. Andrew Clark was fucked.

Three beers into Stubbie's party, Andy was bored. He could've just stayed at home, but he didn't want to deal with his father, and though he'd made four new friends, good friends during detention today, that didn't mean he had to ignore his old crowd either. Unfortunately, half of them were drunk and that meant a whole shit load of trouble was being stirred up, and his tolerance for drama had already been met that day between shouts, tokes and tears. He just wanted to unwind and relax, but that was kind of difficult with Mia Pellolio chasing him through out the house. Normally, he didn't mind being chased by pretty girls, but today wasn't 'normally' so with a wave to Stubbie, Andy ducked through the doorway out into the cold night air.

Technically, it was spring, but that didn't mean anything this close to the lake, so he pulled he jacket tighter around himself as he set off toward the Stop-and-Go down the street. It wasn't until he picked up the receiver of the pay phone out front and was reaching into his pocket for some dimes that he realized what he was doing. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world for him to flip open the phone book and skim the pages of Rs until he found the one he was looking for.

He had no idea what he was going to say, but calling her seemed like the best idea he'd had all night. Still, he couldn't keep his foot from tapping nervously as he waited through two and a half rings, before and older man's voice answered impatiently.

"Hello?"

"Uhm," Andy cleared his throat, "is Allison there?"

There was a muttering that sounded an awful lot like 'how the hell am I supposed to know', before he heard the muffled sound of "ALLISON!" being yelled away from the phone.

And then silence. The toe tapping resumed.

"I guess not," finally came across the line.

"Could you tell her Andy called?" he asked, but it was too late, the dial tone was already buzzing in his ear.

Hanging up the phone he decided just to go home and hope that his parents were already asleep, still, he couldn't help but wonder where Allison was, she didn't seem like the partying type, but he really didn't know that much about her. For all he knew, there was a mob of basket cases that convened and partied every Saturday night. That didn't seem very likely, so still he wondered, where was she?

* * *

Allison was sitting on her roof, leaning up against the chimney as she stared south east toward Chicago, where skyscrapers stood tall over the flat landscape, lights glittering like square Christmas trees that should have been taken down months ago.

The city was exciting, and full of promise. She could get lost there, she could get found there. She looked back over her shoulder toward the center of Shermer, in the day light, when she looked that way she could see her whole life, her whole world, and needless to say, she found it rather lacking. She hadn't been lying when she told Andy and Brian that she wanted to run away. Israel would be exciting, or maybe London, she thought she'd fit in well there, but for now Chicago was convenient, tangible. In the fall she'd start her applications for art schools, here there, anywhere that might take her.

Her fingers being itching with the familiar need to hold a pen in her hand, so she pulled one from behind her ear and looked to the pad of paper she never forgot to bring to her look out point.

Lines began forming on the page, and she heard her father yell her name from within but she ignored him, he never wanted to talk to her unless it was convenient for him, and right now, it wasn't convenient for her, so she kept drawing... Maybe she'd turn this into a painting on Monday, or an oil pastel; she loved the colors that were left on her fingers for days after holding them. Just by running her hand across a wall at school, she could decorate it in her own way.

Definitely the oil pastels.

* * *

Brian spent his Saturday night studying the Illinois Driver's Manual by the light of a flashlight. He was supposed to be asleep, and he was sure his parents were sleeping by now, but he wasn't taking any chances that his mom might be up and see the light coming from his room. She was a big believer in the benefits of sleep, and breakfast, and studying, so he didn't think he'd take too kindly to him staying up past 11:30 just to study his driver's manual. Maybe if it were Calculus she'd be all right, but which direction to position the wheels of the car when parking on a hill wasn't exactly integration by substitution.

She'd never let him drive if she found out about his shop grade, maybe he could redo the assignment, or get extra credit…

Then he could get his permit, and really start to learn how to drive. A frightening thought struck him, would his mom be the one to teach him? Maybe he could ask Andy…

Brian became aware of footsteps in the hallway and quickly shut off his flashlight, and rolled over to face the wall, pretending to be fast asleep, just in case.

* * *

It was Sunday morning and Claire Standish was reorganizing her closet, not an altogether uncommon thing, but today, instead of arranging things by color or age (which just made it so much easier to get rid of things that were totally out of season), she was lining up all of her skirts by length, shortest on the left, longest on the right, and her tops by how revealing the were, the least revealing on the left, the most on the right. She hadn't liked being referred to as a tease, and though she was far from ready to burn all of the most revealing in her wardrobe, she could at least be sure to limit the effect she had.

She did wonder though, what John would think if she took the left most skirt and right most top and went to see him, right now.

She snorted, falling back on her bed and stared up at the canopy, he'd probably take a Polaroid and put her in his wallet for him to consider. Bastard.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Absorbing the Spectrum

**Author: **Allison

**Summary: **It's Monday morning in Shermer, Illinois.

**Word Count: **1537

**Notes: **You can all thank **MidnightBlue88** for wheedling the good bits out of me and making this look pretty :D You'll probably notice that it's pretty heavy on the Allison, but she's my favorite and the easiest to write. I'm still working on my Bender and Claire, but we'll just have to see what spills from the finger tips. Enjoy!

* * *

Allison ran into Bender that morning as he was walking to school. In his rush to get to work, her father had accidentally dropped her off at the junior high school. She didn't bother saying anything to him. She still had plenty of time to get to homeroom and wasn't going to make a fuss and he wouldn't have turned around anyway. The two of them arrived at the corner of Quail and Willow from opposite directions and turned in companionable silence toward school. 

Bender nodded and grunted, "Hey."

Allison just squeaked, blowing the bangs that had escaped her dark headband out of her eyes. Bender had longer strides than she did, so she had to walk a bit faster just to keep up with his meandering pace. It was an awkward and unfamiliar thing for her to change anything about herself for the sake of someone else, hindered further by the constricting material of her black skirt.

She did like Bender; he had noticed her in the past and had never been a total asshole. She laughed, which drew a look from him, but she didn't explain and he didn't care. She was thinking of that moment in detention when Claire challenged Bender with _"And are you going to invite Allison to one of your heavy metal vomit parties?"_ She had laughed then too. If only Claire knew that that was where Bender had seen her before.

It wasn't so hard to hitch a ride to Skokie or Evanston on the weekends and then take the L into the city. She liked the basement clubs where nobody knew who she was and she could pretend her name was Jane or Sophia, and no one knew any. That's why she'd been so surprised to run into Bender there, but he'd just smirked and bought her a drink with his fake ID before disappearing back into the crowd, never mentioning their meeting to anyone.

That's when Allison decided that maybe John Bender wasn't so bad.

* * *

In between first and second period she saw Claire in the bathroom. She was leaning over the mirror, plucking a stray hair from her eyebrow. She seemed to be alone, but Allison could see several pairs of expensive pumps beneath the stall doors.

Claire's eyes flicked away from her reflection, checking to see which of her friends had finished. When she saw Allison, she smiled.

"Hi! How's your Monday going?"

Allison smiled back, but shrugged noncommittally as she washed her hands. Claire's ever immaculate appearance was making her feel self-conscious about the way she had butchered the makeover from Saturday. She wore a headband, yes, but it wasn't white and flowery, just a simple navy blue cloth that held some of her hair back from her face. She liked her black shit and had stuck with it, but smeared a bit of raspberry lip gloss over her lips and a pale blush over her cheeks.

Claire must have noticed the way she was biting her lip, because when Allison reached past her for a paper towel she murmured, "Baby steps."

Allison grinned wider, nodding, suddenly not caring that most of her clothing was shades of black, except for the blue sweatshirt she was hiding under her outer coat. The bell rang and Allison nodded to the door, universal body language for 'gotta go'.

Claire nodded. "I'll see you later."

Allison opened the door and waved good-bye as a series of flushes erupted from the stalls. Before the door swung closed, she heard a voice ask, "Claire, who were you talking to?"

"A friend."

* * *

Brian juggled an armload of textbooks as he tried to remember the combination for his new locker. _18...26..._ what? Those were the only numbers he remembered, which didn't make any sense to him because he had a great memory. He could remember his locker combinations all the way back to sixth grade: _17-9-24, 12-24-3, 36-5-19, 7-27-17, _and _8-25-11._ Not that remembering those served much of a purpose when he couldn't remember the combination to the lock he had now and when he was going to be late for fourth period.

He glanced around the hall; maybe Bender would drop by and show him how to jimmy it open. No such luck. He did see Allison, though, exiting Senor Creighton's class with a bored look on her face.

"Hey, Allison!"

He grinned as she looked both ways down the hall, trying to figure out who was calling her or if there was another Allison around.

Finally, she saw him across the hall and he waved, dropping his physics textbook. Where he was normally jostled back and forth trying to move from one side of the hallway to another, she moved easily, slipping through the gaps between bodies like a ghost. Or maybe Moses. His father would consider it some sort of blasphemy if he knew his son had just compared this strange girl to a great biblical figure, so maybe Brian would just keep that observation to himself.

She leaned up against the locker next to his and looked at him expectantly. He _was_ the one who called her over in the first place.

"Hey, Allison, how's your Monday been going? Claire smiled at me in the hall, which I thought was pretty cool, and Andy waved cause I was on the other side and couldn't exactly stop to talk, you know? I've got shop after lunch and I think I might see Bender. Do you think he'll help me with the next project?"

She blinked as all the words came rushing at her and continued chewing her gum.

"Anyway, I was wondering if maybe you'd want to sit with me and my friends at lunch? They're pretty nice guys, just don't mention anything to Larry about the Andy thing, he's still kind of touchy about that, but who can blame him, right?" Brian shrugged, nearly dropping another book. "Could you hold this, please?"

Allison picked it out of his hands easily and held it against her chest as she blew a purple bubble.

Brain took a breath, "So what do you say?"

The bubble popped and she turned away, taking his book with her.

"That's cool, you know? I don't need that until tomorrow anyway! See you at lunch."

He was getting odd looks from the people around him, so he bent to pick up his physics book and retuned his attention to the lock… _18-20-6. _ The lock opened easily in his hands.

* * *

Andy slouched low in his chair, his thumb beating a rapid tattoo against his jeans as Mr. Tepper droned on and on about World War I. Normally wars were his favorite part of history classes as they were certainly the most interesting, but Tepper had a way of making them less interesting than the ceiling tiles. Of which there were exactly eighty four. No, eighty eight… that one had a giant crack in it, so did that make it eighty seven or eighty nine…

Andy blinked and tried to focus his attentions back on the blackboard, but he really wasn't in the mood to here about Serbian nationalists and the archduke of Austria, or was it Hungary?

The door opened and the entire class turned their head to see who was offering them a reprieve, however brief, from Tepper's voice; each hoped a pass might come along and give them a longer break. Andy grinned when he saw his best friend Trevor leaning up against the doorway, looking properly apologetic for interrupting the class.

"Excuse me sir, but Coach Doherty needs to see Andrew Clark right away, if it's all right?"

Andy sat up straight in his chair, trying not to look too pleased, as Mr. Tepper looked at him over the top of his thick glasses. "Do you have a hall pass?"

Trevor reached into his pocket, but came out empty handed. He sighed, "I'm sorry sir, but you know how the athletic coaches are sometimes…"

"I suppose it's all right, but Mr. Clark I'll still expect you to do the reading tonight, pages 486 through 510."

"Yes, sir," Andy nodded, gathering up his belongings before slipping through the aisles to the front of the class.

He knocked fists with Trevor when they stepped out into the hallway, and as soon as the door slammed shut behind them he asked, "So does coach really need to see me?"

"No, man. We're just headed over to the deli and thought you'd want to come along. Never leave a man behind, and all that."

"Thank god, I thought I was going to go crazy in there. Tepper is such a prick!"

"Hey dude, you don't have to tell me. I had him last year and if I never hear the words Russian Revolution again, I'll die a happy man."

Andy laughed, "No shit. And you know, you've got to stop wearing your letter jacket when you break me out. One of these days he's bound to realize those are baseballs on your sleeve, not wrestlers."

Trevor grinned, "Fuck, he hasn't yet. Why should he start now? Come on, let's drop your crap at your locker and meet Stubby and the rest in the parking lot."


End file.
